


The Phoenix Song

by Leni



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M, Future Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-21
Updated: 2012-10-21
Packaged: 2017-11-16 18:49:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/542690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leni/pseuds/Leni
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>post-NFA. Comics, what comics? Angel comes back to Buffy's life.<br/>10x100</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Phoenix Song

**Author's Note:**

> THANK YOU, Nicia, for the help. :)
> 
>  
> 
> _Written for[Magpie Prompt](http://writers-toybox.livejournal.com/34374.html)._

  
**1.** _one for sorrow_  


When he returns, there is no celebration.

“Angel,” she whispers, and the word sounds different than it used to. Like hesitancy, an uncertain mirage.

“Buffy.” 

Whatever she hears in her name makes her eyes widen. With a gesture, the younger women shush down. Buffy stands up, the only one in the crowd to recognize him; she’d say something, perhaps, but a headshake cuts her off.

“I’ll go now,” he fills in the silence.

“Of course.” If Buffy is surprised, she doesn’t let it show. “You’ll come back?”

His wan smile speaks volumes. Hasn’t he just proved he cannot stay away?

  
**2.** _two for joy_  


Buffy spends two days sifting through memories: the way he looked at her when she still couldn’t believe all that attention was for her, the small shocks as she noticed the difference between his touch and that of a human boy, the joys she learned to take from his kiss and his voice – and the pain of losing it all.

“Go,” Faith says on the third day.

“But -”

“You’re miserable, he’s miserable. You. Belong. Together.”

“‘Together’ never helped,” she half-laughs.

“Just go. If I’m wrong –” Faith shrugs. “You can hate me again.”

Buffy gets to her feet – and starts running.

  
**3.** _three for a girl_  


Angel knows it’s her the moment the elevator deposits her onto the hallway outside his door. Twelve years ago, he would have guessed her words when he let her in, her exact expression as she observed his surroundings.

Now he opens the door tentatively, halfway hoping she’ll stay at the doorstep and not demand entrance. Buffy has always affected his world, and he’s just re-learning what it looked like before Wolfram & Hart’s vengeance.

He can’t afford more change.

“I wasn’t expecting company.”

_Are you still my girl?_

“It’s okay.” She walks past him. “I wasn’t expecting to come.”

_…always._

  
**4.** _four for a boy_  


As Buffy takes in the spacious room, the sixteen-year-old within her whispers that she doesn’t know Angel anymore. This is nothing like the basement apartment she remembers the best, or even like the more comfortable accommodations in L.A.

“You’ve changed,” she notes, passing a finger down the surface of an empty shelf. There are no books. No weapons. Not even a piece of art that would mark the space at his. “You’ve been running for too long.”

He barks a laugh; she doesn’t recognize that pained sound, either. “Longer,” he admits.

“You haven’t changed that much, then.” And she smiles.

  
**5.** _five for silver_  


He offers her a seat. It used to be so important that he practiced every human courtesy rule around her. “Would you like a drink?”

Buffy looks at him strangely, and it dawns that perhaps he was never that good a pretender. Or maybe he’d never tried this hard?

“I’m fine,” she waves off the offer.

There’s a glint on her left hand. A ring, of course, made of silver as her favorite jewelry has always been. Not _that_ ring, not ever again. “I shouldn’t have come.”

“Me neither.” Did she move closer, or did he? “Yet here I am.”

  
**6.** _six for gold_  


When Angel appeared in the courtyard, interrupting the discussion on the unidentified warrior who’d saved three young Slayers the night before, Buffy berated herself for not guessing sooner. Who else would step into a battle, on the losing side, and disappear before his efforts could be thanked?

But now she wonders: was he saving the hopeless, or taking down another pet of that lawyer’s firm while it was distracted?

“I would have helped you,” she says, trying to imagine his trials and shying away from the imagery. “I would have –”

“You’d have _died_.” His eyes flash gold. “Like everyone else.”

  
**7.** _seven for a secret, never to be told_  


She won’t be treated like a child, but she can’t leave in a huff and abandon him to his misery – further proof that she’s not the girl he once knew. “Tell you a secret?” she whispers instead, amused when he leans in despite himself. “I flunk at dying.”

The sentence isn’t fully out of her mouth when she realizes he won’t appreciate her levity. It’s a running joke at headquarters, but Angel probably won’t understand if she explains why.

“Don’t.” He tenses up. “Just don’t.”

Her hand is halfway to soothe him down before she notices she’s moved at all.

  
**8.** _eight for a wish_  


He moved into her city three months ago and he’ll move heaven and earth to hide that information from her. Buffy believes the worst of every situation, and he doesn’t have the energy to drag her stubborn conclusions into a more impartial light.

“I wouldn’t make you a target,” Angel confesses. Warmth seeps through his jacket, on the spot where her hand rests against his shoulder. “That’s why I never came.”

It’s not a complete lie.

“I wish you had anyway,” she sighs. “Sticking together is always better.”

It’s not the complete truth.

But he doesn’t call her on it.

  
**9.** _nine for a kiss_  


They remain seated, exchanging the years since he last saw her in Sunnydale.

Buffy tells him of half-grown teenagers who have become leaders in the supernatural world. She tells him of a young woman who follows too closely in her sister’s steps. She tells him of lovers, friends, and warriors; of being the best long after someone should have taken her place. “ _The_ Slayer among Slayers, that’s me,” she whispers. “I’m tired.”

She is leaning against his chest now; it’s easy to kiss her hair in wordless support.

Buffy moves her hand to rest on top of his. “Your turn.”

  
**10.** _ten for a bird you must not miss_  


He tells her of South America’s beauty, but doesn’t mention the race against assassins under the jungle heat. He tells her about remote corners in Europe, never naming the ghosts of villages he’d once burned to the ground.

“One day you’ll tell me everything,” she asserts when he finishes, stroking the back of his hand.

Surprised and vaguely pleased, Angel nods.

“One day I’ll see those sights, too.”

He imagines her in every place he’s touched, a living phoenix bringing new life – new memories – out of the fire. “I missed you,” he offers, starting to smile.

She grins back. “Ditto.”

 

The End  
21/02/12


End file.
